


What I Thought I Couldn't Do

by fallenangel218



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 10:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1740779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenangel218/pseuds/fallenangel218
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an accident puts Abby in the hospital, Tim feels there is only one way to deal with the extreme guilt he is feeling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I Thought I Couldn't Do

**Author's Note:**

> Fic inspired by the song “Moments” by Emerson Drive. 
> 
> Warnings: As a disclaimer, the lyrics mention the E Street bridge. I’m not certain there’s an E street bridge in DC, but I’m going to pretend.

_I was coming to the end of a long long walk,  
When a man crawled out of a cardboard box  
Under the E. Street Bridge,   
Followed me onto it_

There was no traffic on the bridge. It was after 2 a.m. Tim had slipped out of the Yard late that night. He needed to be alone after what had happened. He walked until he came to E street. The bridge loomed in the distance. Tim stopped to admire the grandiose structure of the steel bridge. It was a shame he’d have to jump from it in a few short moments.

Taking a deep breath, Tim started walking out onto the bridge. The Potomac shimmered below him as the light of a full moon shone down on the water’s surface. About halfway across, he stopped and leaned against the barrier, staring out at the river. He wasn’t aware he’d been followed, until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and came face to face with an old man.

The man looked as if he hadn’t showered in about a month. His jeans were ripped and dirty, and he was wearing a sweater three sizes too big. A cap covered his matted gray hair. Tim deduced that he was sharing the bridge with a homeless man.

Tim dug into his pocket for some money. It wasn’t as if he were going to need it in a few minutes. He came out with a twenty-dollar bill, and held it out awkwardly. The man took it and pocketed it.

“Thanks.”

Tim nodded and turned away from him, looking out at the water. He felt the man’s presence next to him, leaning on the barrier. He willed him to go away. If he was going to do this, he wanted some semblance of privacy.

The man didn’t leave.

_I stood there tryin' to find my nerve, Wondered if a single soul on Earth  
would care at all…Miss me when I'm gone…_

The homeless man stood there awkwardly for a while, leaning against the railing. He was whistling some disgustingly-happy song. Tim wanted to punch him in the face. His anger finally won out and he turned to face the man.

“What are you doing here? Why can’t you leave me alone!” He shouted angrily. The man didn’t say anything. “Get out of here! Can’t you hear me! Leave!” Tim shoved him backward. The man stumbled a bit, but was unfazed.

“Nice night for a walk.” 

Tim looked at him, bewildered.

“What?” 

“You’re taking a walk, right? It’s a nice night for it.” 

“Yeah, I’m taking a walk.” _Right off this bridge. If he’d ever leave._

_That old man just kept hanging around, Lookin' at me, lookin' down  
I think he recognized…That look in my eyes…_

Tim fixed his gaze on the old man. He felt as if this man was looking right through him. 

“Why are you staring at me?” Tim asked. 

The man didn’t respond. Tim turned and looked out at the water again. His hands gripped the railing, hard. He knew the old man was still there. He had no idea why this man insisted on watching him leap off the E Street   
Bridge and kill himself. It probably wouldn’t be a pleasant thing to watch.

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his musings for a moment. 

“Why are you out here, son?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” The response was cold. Tim wanted it that way. “Just, leave me alone.”

The man leaned against the barrier, next to Tim. 

“You’re not the first person I’ve met out here, you know.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better about—“ Tim cut himself off before he revealed too much to the stranger, but he caught the old man giving him a look that could have rivaled a Gibbs glare. Tim lowered his eyes.

“What happened?” 

Tim stared out at the water. 

“There was an accident. I was driving. My friend - she went through the windshield—“

“I’m sorry for your loss.” 

“Oh no! She’s not—she’s in a coma. They’re not saying much about her condition. It’s my fault she’s there. I—I should be there, not her. I should be the one to die.”

“Accidents happen, son. They’re unavoidable sometimes.”

“This one was!” Tim shouted, trying to hold back tears. “Why am I telling you about this, anyway? You don’t even know me!”

“You’re telling me because I’m the only thing stopping you from taking a swim in the Potomac,” he said.

“Why won’t you just leave me alone!” Tim shouted.

“Your friend needs you,” the old man said, laying a hand on Tim’s arm. “What if she pulls through? She’ll wake up and find out you’ve killed yourself. Would you want her to live with that?”

“I can’t do that to her,” Tim whispered. He looked up at the old man. He was glaring at him with striking blue eyes that reminded him of Gibbs. He stood there for a while, staring, unsure of what to do next. The staring contest ended when Tim’s cell phone rang. He shakily took it out of his pocket and answered it.

“McGee.”

 _“Where the hell are you, McGee?”_

“I’m sorry, Boss. I had to take a walk. I’m on my way back to the Yard,” he said, turning to leave the bridge. 

_“The hospital called. Abby is awake.”_

Tim broke into a run as he bombarded Gibbs with questions. The old man leaned against the railing and watched him go. 

_Like that cool night, on the E Street Bridge  
when a young man, almost ended it  
I was right there, wasn't scare a bit  
and I helped to pull him through..._

**END**


End file.
